


Crazy Day

by sleepingseeker



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2012)
Genre: F/M, Masturbation, Mild Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-22
Updated: 2014-04-22
Packaged: 2018-01-20 09:39:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1505666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepingseeker/pseuds/sleepingseeker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Raph can't keep his mind off something he saw through a certain dimensional gateway</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crazy Day

**Author's Note:**

> Set after the events of The Manhattan Project (Wormquake) Written for my bud, Bluecladhero, on Tumblr who was thinking about how seeing that 'other' April may affect Raphael later in the privacy of his own room. RATED: M for masturbation (lol) and swearing. A bit of silly smut to enjoy :D

 

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After the stress of getting Splinter home, attending everyone's wounds, they had each retreated to their own private thoughts, seeking the sanctity and quiet found in each of their separate corners of the lair. Splinter was resting peacefully enough in his own room and Donatello was in the lab, chatting with April on his laptop. Reliving their adventure between sips of coke and bursts of muffled laughter.

Leo was in the dojo, meditating on the close calls; the dangerous decisions made in split seconds balancing one life for another; the terror of facing his father’s mindless decent into the Rat King’s control again and nearly losing him. Raph was sure that Leo’s doubts were too numerous to count and he felt a jolt of guilt for laying into him and assigning blame so quickly. He’d have to apologize later, or better yet, think of a way to make it up to him.

Mikey was in his room, sleeping. He fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow. Raph wished he was as lucky. He tossed to one side, eyes falling on the empty tank that used to be Spike’s home. He pinched his eyes shut; sought something different to focus on.

And suddenly distraction in all its curvy perfection loomed large and full in his mind. Vivid and luscious.

His eyes snapped open, but he still saw her. The April from the strange dimension where everything seemed distorted and flat. Well, most things. He felt his mouth go dry and his face flush as heat raced through him and congregated to a sharp point between his legs. His mind’s eye zoomed in on the woman, the fully grown woman, who was April but also not April. The not-so-subtle bounce to the breasts barely contained behind the strained zipper of that yellow jumpsuit.

He ran a hand over his face. This was not a good idea. What the hell was he thinking? April was . . . a friend. But that wasn’t really their April. God no. Not even close.

He felt a tingling sensation that was slowly building into the familiar pressure of need and shifted onto his shell. He rose up on one elbow, cocked a brow to the door, listening. The lair was quiet besides the very distant sound of Don’s voice. Bracing one arm behind his head, he allowed his right hand to trace down the front of his plastron, fingertips lingering before dipping lower, rubbing at the fold of skin that held his member neatly tucked beneath the lowest portion of his shell. He made a slow circle with one pad of his finger and licked his lips.

He imagined April, that April, coming into his room. She was in the yellow jumpsuit. She walked in the same slow strides as she did in that other world, her long legs and her curvy hips accentuating her feminine grace. She stopped at the base of his bed, tipped her head to one side and ran her hands through her layered copper hair. Her eyes roved over him, hungry. He groaned as he emerged into his hand, licked his lips and bit his bottom one as he stroked himself. Slow. Languid. He went back to the fantasy. She was on the bed now, kneeling, straddling him, the white belt at her waist hung open.

He reached up and imagined the weight of one of her breasts in his palm. He squeezed and kneaded. A groan slid from between gritted teeth. Then he reached over to the zipper but she slapped his hands aside. Pumping harder now, he frowned, eyes still closed. But then April smiled and by inches, she reached up and slipped the zipper down. Down lower, down past her belly button until he could make out the faint line of hair that led to that mysterious joy he could only visit in his imagination.

A year ago, he’d been caught with a magazine. One full of bare flesh, puckered lips and women in strange positions with expressions of something like pain on their faces. He’d never seen anything like it before and had become magnetized by it; riveted.

Unfortunately, he was in the middle of being riveted when Splinter had walked in on him. Needless to say, Splinter was not pleased with his son’s lack of control over himself and had punished him severely. It also led to the embarrassing room checks that their sensei now conducted once a month, canvasing every inch of their rooms for anything that might be deemed unhealthy, inappropriate, unproductive to a ninja’s training. Basically anything that even hinted at women.

Luckily for Raphael, he had a very vivid imagination.

The April from that other place shrugged out of the jumpsuit, one rounded shoulder at a time; covering and hiding the full view of those amazing breasts from his view. Eyes locked on her, he watched with intense focus as her arms slid away; hands now cupping her own breasts, squeezing them until the flesh bulged from between her fingers. Her hips rocked and she ground herself against him. A fresh moan rose up out of him as he imagined her throwing her head back, tossing her hair and purring his name.

“Oh yeah, Raphael.”

His right hand gripped harder around his swollen shaft, slick with pre-cum, glistening in the semi-dark of his room, the thick head nearly purple and unfolded into its full spade-shaped form. His body constricted as a sharp wave blasted through him. Electric and powerful. He was close. He curled up off his mattress as another current went through him. Stronger. His coiled loins were about to spring.

“Fuck me, Raphael. Fuck me.”

He bit back a bark of pained pleasure. Biting the inside of his cheek to keep from calling out, but he felt his chest tightening. Felt the rumbling beginnings of his churr. April rocked her hips again, giggled and bounced. Freckled flesh jiggled. She pulled one rounded breast up and ran her tongue over the top of it while her opposite fingers pinched and pulled at her nipple until it was dark red and erect.

This time he could not control the sharp cry that broke from between his clenched jaw. His mind was blanking, his body was quivering, toes curling; his hand pistoning even as he tightened his hold. His left hand reached below and his fingertips caressed his tail, sticking rigidly up and out between his splayed legs. Ripples of heat raced up through him. His body clenched, then bucked. His legs kicked as the first spurt of his orgasm erupted out of him, splashing against his chest, chin.

“Ohho! Fuck! Yeah! April! _UHNG_! April! You fucking _princess_! I want to . . . to . . .!”

His churr blotted out any other coherent words. Rumbling and rolling out of him in a repeating primal roar of release.

“What is wrong with you?”

The voice cut through the static noise of the ebbing pleasure. He jumped and threw a pillow over his dripping, abused member, listing to one side over his hip.

“Donnie, what the FUCK!? What’s wrong with _me_!? Can’t you ever knock!?” he yelled with a hoarse voice.

Donatello stood just inside his doorway, laptop in his white-knuckled grip. He shook his head, lobbing a look of complete disgust at his brother. Raphael’s head fell back onto his sweat soaked pillow. He covered his face with one clammy hand.

“What-the-fuck-do-you-want?” It came out as one word, muffled but clear.

“April wanted to ask you something.”

Raphael peeked from between his fingers then closed his eyes. Not for the first time he wished he was an only child. Or a sibling to brothers who actually had some common sense.

“Tell me you disconnected before you barged in here.”

At that Don had the decency to blush. “I killed the call . . . after a few seconds.”

Raph smacked the side of his bed, “Are you fucking kiddin’ _me_!?”

“I was in shock!”

“I’m gonna put you in shock after I beat the snot out of ya!”

Raph leaped up from his mattress. Don was already gone before he made it across the room. When he peeked out of his room, it was just in time to hear the dead bolt on the lab latch. Growling, Raph spun as he felt someone touch his shoulder.

Leo jumped back, hands up. “What was that all about?”

“Nothin’,” Raph snapped after a minute.

“Crazy day, huh?”

Raph glanced again at Leo, then dropped his head as he remembered he owed his brother an apology. “Yeah,” was all he managed.

Leo crossed his arms and shook his head. “What’s really crazy is . . .” he laughed and it had a strained sound. He waved one hand to dismiss what he was about to say.

Raph, curious, tipped his head. “What, bro?”

Leo thought for a moment, looking away, then back at him. He laughed again and it was the same nervous chuckle, sounding almost embarrassed.

“It-It’s just . . . did you see that other April?”

His hands were out in front of his chest, fingers curled around imaginary breasts, large ones. Raph’s eyes widened and he spun on his heel.

“Go to bed, Leo.”

Leo chuckled again and rubbed the back of his head. He stepped into the kitchen, noticing as he opened the fridge door that there was an apple pie on the counter.

 

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